by | Jan 22, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

Don’t pity me, just standing here
My youth is no consideration,
For I went missing in the field
When others were fighting for their nation

Don’t pity me, as to the stake I’m tied
For I see a tear within my Sergeants eye.
Pity him, the order he has to make
And then to watch me die.

Don’t pity me, now the blindfolds tied,
Pity those with duty still to do.
For they are made to aim their guns
And ordered just to shoot me through.

Don’t pity me, but think of him,
The officer I hardly knew.
For he then has to finish me off
With a pistol shot or two.

Don’t pity me, now I’m dead
Don’t cry your tears for me.
For now I’m gone, mine minds at peace
My spirit is set free.

Don’t pity me, now I’m gone,
Think only of those I left behind
Still dodging bullets in the trench
And the gas that makes them blind.

Don’t pity me, now I’m in my grave
Think only of my Mother all alone.
To hear the news, from foreign field
She’ll never see me come back home.

Don’t pity me, for I’m now at peace
And gone are all my fears,
I lived my life, to the full,
For all my eighteen years.

Pity those who thought it best,
To kill the innocence of boys
To them it was but just a game,
A game in which we were just their toys.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *